


Like Father, Like Son

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 05:44:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5485760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander is sick, so Philip has to step in. Thirteen-year-old, five foot tall, Philip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Father, Like Son

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by two interactions I've had on tumblr as askangieham. One was having to name Philip's (ask-philip-hamilton) top five most embarrassing moments, and then one was a conversation with adxtburr about said moments. Original post is here: http://ask-philip-hamilton.tumblr.com/post/135652080258/5-most-embarrasing-things-youve-done. Also, I didn't do any research for this, so it's basically just "vague government setting" rather than any specific gathering.

Burr sat back in his chair, waiting for Washington to begin roll call. He looked around, trying to see who was there to start trouble today, and noticed with some pleasure that Hamilton wasn't there to talk his ear off.

Washington cleared his throat at the front of the hall, then began reading off names. Burr was early in the roll call, so he tuned out most of it, until Hamilton's name came up.

"Alexander Hamilton?"

No answer.

Washington shook his head and looked down at his clipboard. "Abs-"

He was cut off as the door banged open, revealing a figure completely drowned in the clothes that Hamilton usually wore to Congress.

"I'm here!" came a voice from somewhere between the hat and the jacket.

"You are not Alexander Hamilton."

"Yes, I am. The original's sick, so I'm being him today."

"How old are you?"

A hand poked out from a sleeve. The person within began counting on his fingers. "Forty-one?"

Washington pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is that how old you are, or how old Secretary Hamilton is?"

"Both, sir."

Burr couldn't stifle his laughter at this. It was a good day when he got both entertainment _and_ the joy of not having to listen to Alexander Hamilton talk for hours on end.

Washington shot him a glare before looking back to the figure in the doorway. "When you're not being Alexander Hamilton, what's your name?" he asked.

"Philip, sir."

"And how old are you? When you're being Philip?"

"Thirteen." The boy's voice was apologetic. Burr could hear the defeat in his tone, and he almost felt bad for the boy.

"Did the man who is usually Alexander Hamilton send you?"

"No, I came on my own. Pa seemed really worried about his debt plan, though, so I thought I'd represent it because he can't."

"Does he know you're wearing his clothes?"

The clothes in question drooped a little bit. "Well, Angie's probably told him by now."

Washington sighed. "Okay. If someone comes for you, you have to leave, okay?"

Burr watched the hat bob up and down as Philip nodded. "Where do I usually sit?" he asked.

Everyone laughed.

 _At least I don't have to listen to Hamilton arguing with Jefferson,_ Burr thought.

He turned out to be wrong about that; the younger Hamilton was just as capable of arguing as his father, although perhaps a bit more comical about it.

 

 

 

 


End file.
